Of Elves, Men, and HobbitsTales from Middle Earth
by CodeNameTargeter
Summary: A collection of tales from Middle Earth. First story posted- a young elf named Silmarien is the Princess of Mirkwood's warrior. But what happens when a simple patrol goes horribly wrong? ON HOLD!


Silmarien smiled as her arrow hit the center of the target. She pulled another arrow out of her quiver and aimed again. It hit just slightly to the left of the other arrows. She was one of best archers in Mirkwood. The blonde half-elven woman had fought in several battles in the last few years in which all, the elves had won. With a small smile, she nocked a third arrow up and fired, just barely missing splitting one of her previous arrows.  
  
"Silmarien!" a voice called out to the woman. She looked up and then replaced the arrow in her quiver.  
  
"Yes Gilwen?" she asked curtly, her face stern. The elf-maiden approaching her stopped.  
  
"Her highness requests that you go to her immediately," Gilwen replied, her long white dress swirling around her ankles. Silmarien walked up to the target and pulled the arrows out. Replacing the arrows in her quiver, she started striding towards the main building. Gilwen hurried after her. Silmarien didn't slow her brisk pace, pausing only to open the door into the palace. She walked down the halls, the others giving her a wide berth, stepping to the edges of the wide hall. She threw open the door and walked into the Princess of Mirkwood's chamber, her hunter-green cloak swirling around her ankles. Gilwen hurried up beside her and curtsied to the princess. The blonde-haired princess nodded to her warrior.  
  
"What is it Princess?" Silmarien asked with a slight bow. The elf smiled at her warrior. She had gotten use to Silmarien's blunt manner.  
  
"I need to talk with you in private Silmarien," the elf replied. The blonde princess rose gracefully from her chair and led the way to a door behind where she had been sitting. The archer woman followed behind her.  
  
"Alright Arafea, what is it?" Silmarien demanded as soon as the door shut. Arafea sighed and rolled her eyes.  
  
"I knew you're vexed with me Silmarien, but a messenger just arrived," her expression grew worried. "Silmarien, there's been orc attacks all around the edges of Mirkwood. We've lost 2 good warriors in the past week. I need you to take 5 warrior and go out there and see what you can do," Princess Arafea said worriedly. Silmarien smiled and bowed.  
  
"I take it you want this kept quiet?" Silmarien asked with a grin. Arafea grinned back.  
  
"You read my mind, nin mellon!" the princess responded. Silmarien bowed and exited quietly out of the room. She took the steps two at a time and knocked on the door of her best friend's door, Cuanca.  
  
"Yes Silmarien?" her brown haired friend asked curiously.  
  
"I just talked to her highness," Silmarien said with a grin. "She wants me to take 5 of us and go on a border patrol. I'm taking you, Lhachwen, Celebwen, Lothorn, and Loswen," she finished slightly breathlessly.  
  
The next day, the six elves set out to the border. It took them a day of running to reach the edge to Mirkwood. They sent the old patrol back to the stronghold.  
  
"Have you seen anything yet?" Silmarien asked her patrol. They all shook their heads. Silmarien sighed. They had been out there for 5 days without a glimpse of an orc. She didn't like it; it made her a bit uneasy. Then, on the eighth day, Lhachwen cam up silently and breathlessly behind Silmarien.  
  
"Yrch! 30, near the river!" the redhead hissed into the elf's ear. Silmarien grinned slightly and nodded.  
  
"Alright, you take Loswen and Lothorn to the west side of the river. I'll take Celebwen and Cuanca to the eastside. Wait for my signal before you attack," Silmarien ordered. Lhachwen nodded and disappeared into the dark. Silmarien then went to get Cuanca and Celebwen.  
  
5 minutes later, all the elves were in position, watching a band of orcs tramp through the forest. Silmarien grinned and pulled an arrow out of her quiver. Silently, she nocked it up and drew her longbow. Taking a moment to aim, she released it, signaling the other group to begin. The orcs paused as one of their number suddenly sprouted an arrow out of his throat. The elves shot arrows rapidly at the orcs, managing to fell 9 others before the orcs retaliated. After several moments, they pinpointed their attackers' location and began aiming their own crude bows at the elves. Seeing that the trees no longer gave them an advantage, Silmarien fired off two arrows in rapid succession and then light-footedly leaped down, the others following her. The first to get wounded was Lothorn when an arrow went threw her right leg. With a cry of pain, she fell to one knee but still kept fighting. Then, three arrows came hurtling at Loswen, one piercing her shoulder, another her arm, and the third her heart. With a groan, her bow dropped from her hand and she toppled to the forest floor.  
  
Celebwen gave a shout of grief and hurried over to her friend. Two orc arrows imbedded themselves into her heart as she reached the already dead Loswen. Then, Celebwen went to join her friend in the house of the dead. There were now only 12 orcs left. An arrow grazed Silmarien's leg leaving a deep scratch. Another arrow slayed the already wounded Lothorn. Silmarien looked around with astonishment, ½ of her patrol was already dead. The rest were all scratched and wounded but nothing serious. Then, some 6th sense made her turn and scream,  
  
"Lhachwen! Move!" the redhead moved, but not fast enough. The arrow piereced her shoulder then another her stomach. The normally cheerful elf sank to the ground, the pain showing in her eyes. Still, she kept fighting, killing 2 orcs, until the wound beat her and she died.  
  
Silmarien and her oldest friend drew together, back to back. Her quiver was running low; if only she could reach Celebwen's! 4 arrows left- 5 orcs. She shot them all, leaving only one orc left.  
  
She looked at her brave brown haired friend. She had only two arrows left. The orc snarled and shot two arrows at Cuanca.  
  
The world seemed to be in slow motion. She couldn't move, she could only think and remember. Remember all of the days and times she had spent together with Cuanca. Getting their first bows, shooting their first orc. It all came back to her in a rush now. Those mere moments seemed like years to the elven-warrior. Silmarien stood there, helpless, in that never ending moment. And then the arrows hit, snapping Silmarien out of her daze.  
  
She grabbed the last arrow out of Cuanca's quiver and shot at the orc, just as he shot another arrow at Cuanca. The orc's arrow hit first, the Silmarien's. her arrow only slowed him for a moment but that was all she needed. She pulled a long silver knife from her belt and started towards the orc. He fired an arrow at her hitting her in the shoulder, but that did not stop the half elven warrior. Like a thunder cloud, she bore down on him and with a swing of her dirk, she decappitated the orc.  
  
Then with a low cry of dismay, she staggered over to Cuanca. Sinking down to her knees, she gently lifted her friend's head and put it on her lap. Cuanca's eyes opened slightly.  
  
"I guess that this is then Silmarien. Goodbye nin mellon," Cuanca croaked.  
  
"No Cuanca. Don't die!" Silmarien cried. Cuanca smiled slightly and then breathed one final breath than died. Silmarien collapsed over her friend's body.  
  
There she lay and stayed for 2 days before the new patrol came out and found her there. Gentle hands unwrapped Silmarien from the dead elf's body. She stood for a moment before collapsing from sorrow and weariness. When she awoke, she was a changed person. She couldn't look at her bow anymore. She kept thinking that if only she had the skills of healing, she might have saved her friends. Thus, she cast aside the tools and garb of a warrior and put on the pure white robe of a healer. The only thing that she kept was the long silver knife with which she had revenged her friend. 


End file.
